She Slips Through the Window (And He Doesn't Make a Sound)
by I Was NotA Robot
Summary: She comes on a dreary Saturday, when the sidewalks are soaked and the trees are damp from the previous night's rain.


**My interpretation on the headcannon that Natasha always breaks into Steve's apartment and never uses the door like a normal person (but we all know she's not, now don't we?).**

 **It's not explicitly romantic, but it's definitely Romanogers in a sense (even I'm not sure whether or not it's just friendship, with Steve longing to actually know who he's befriended, or a romance of sorts. Take your pick, and tell me what you thought). She and Bucky had the same history they had in the comics, so...that speaks for itself.**

 **It takes place after the events of the AOU, where they've found Bucky and crammed him off to Steve, half because they don't want to hand him over to S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra, and half because they're not sure what to do with him otherwise.**

* * *

She comes on a dreary Saturday, when the sidewalks are soaked and the trees are damp from the previous night's rain.

She comes to check up on him, she says.

 _(He knows that she's really come to make sure that his guest hasn't tried to kill him, or himself. He knows, but he doesn't comment on it)._

* * *

He was never sure if she checked up on him because Nick Fury asked her to _(it wouldn't really surprise him, but it sure as hell wouldn't make him feel any better),_ or because she actually _wanted_ to _(on his bad days, he hoped that was the real reason. After all, they are friends, right?)._

She comes in through the window. It's unlocked.

* * *

He hardly bothers with locking that window in particular anymore. She always came in through the window – she told him that she didn't like the _looks_ that people gave her as she walked down the hall. He responded that maybe he could just give her a spare set of keys so she doesn't have to pick his lock. Then people wouldn't stare. _(He knows that she's not shy enough to be unnerved by other people. But he doesn't comment on it.)_

She waved a dismissive hand and asks him, _what's the fun in that?_

Steve isn't as worried about Bucky trying to kill _him,_ at least not as worried as he should be. But he trusts his friend. After all, he'd only tried to kill Steve once so far.

* * *

He knows she doesn't like his guest, and his guest is unsure what to feel about her. Whenever she visits, she smirks at Steve like she _knows_ something he doesn't. _(He's gotten used to this, and has learned not to ask)_. And then she glances at Bucky, and flinches, as though the sight of him causes her physical pain.

And just like that, her visit is over, and then it's like she was never there. That is, until she slides open Steve's window and slips inside again.

This time, she called him, and her voice sounded urgent. Natasha _never_ warned him beforehand about her little visits. But this time she did, and it worried him.

* * *

He half expected her to burst into the room, guns blazing, and her eyes on fire.

 _(Because that's the Natasha he knows, or at least he thinks he knows)._

He half expected her to train her aim and take the shot, right between his eyes. _(By_ his _he means Bucky, though the memory of her pointing a gun at_ him _is still etched too clearly in his mind)._

She doesn't do either of these things, to his surprise and his relief. She knocks on his door out of politeness _(it must be politeness, because she's told him herself that doors aren't for convienience)_ , and doesn't even roll her eyes at him when it takes a full minute for him to open it _(he'd been etching cinnamon colored curls on paper)._ She strides past him like she owns the place _(she's been doing that lately)_ , not even making eye contact.

This surprises him too. He doesn't comment.

This time, she plops herself down on the couch, where Bucky is seated in silence, staring at the TV static. She snatches up the remote that's hanging loosely in his hand and switches the static off, turning the screen to black. He knows she's there, and even turns his head in acknowledgment, but says nothing. Her green eyes narrow _(is that disappointment flickering in her eyes?)_ , and Steve notices the corners of her red mouth turn down. The tension was so thick, Steve doubted that even a knife could cut through it.

They don't bicker. But Bucky watches her with dark eyes, and doesn't speak.

He never speaks.

Natasha doesn't blink. She is a mirror image of intensity and concentration. Her lips pucker, and she crosses her legs and folds her arms. He is a statue with a gleaming arm, and she is an observer who is trying _(and failing_ ) to solve all of the puzzles and riddles that are meshed into his flesh. Until her face cracks and suddenly, in a throaty whisper,

" _I remembered, James."_

This shatters the air, and she suddenly bolts upright as though she's been struck with an iron rod.

And with that, Natasha is gone, the door slamming behind her. Steve moves to follow her, and he's halfway to the doorway until Bucky suddenly chucks the TV remote upwards.

It slams into the closed door and tumbles onto the carpet. The noise catches Steve's attention, and he turns to see Bucky shaking his head, as if to say, _leave her be,_ something dark resembling remorse, regret, and patience echoing in his eyes. He's about to ignore him, to rush out and ask Natasha _what's wrong_ , but he knows it's useless. It's unlikely that she hasn't slunk off into the shadows and vanished, and even more so that she'd give him a straight answer even if she hadn't.

Steve crumples, then leans down and picks up the remote.

* * *

That evening, as he sketches jaded eyes and dark lips framed by cinnamon curls, he glances over at the couch. Bucky's eyes are closed, and his body is rigid and unmoving, snores barely heard. The window is still unlocked, and a glittering city tinted in monochrome blue winks down at him.

The next time she visits, she uses the door.

 _(Steve doesn't comment on this new development, but begins the neck on his sketch)._


End file.
